A/N: I've been waiting forever for this kind of self-indulgent fanfiction to emerge in the Lucifer fandom! And since I'm tired of waiting... This happened. Enjoy. (I certainly did)

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the Lucifer TV show - only any OCs (Original Characters) to appear in this fic, and the situations I created for the sake of this story.

Prologue

They had woken up. Somehow.

"It's time to go."

Where to? The afterlife?

"Come on, you don't want to be late for your first day of school."

School... Right.

Wait, not right.

They were 22. School was but a distant memory at this point – even though technically, it hadn't been that long ago.

"Ann?"

A giant man holding a child-sized backpack was looking down at them.

'Ann'...? But that wasn't their-

Their mind came to a screeching halt:

What was their name?

One week.

It had been one whole week since she'd had a breakdown in the entrance hall of what was – supposedly – her house, thus missing her first day of school. That sort of thing was apparently frequent enough that, after no more than a sigh, she'd been swiftly redirected to her bedroom by the giant man in order to calm down- which – while efficient – she found a bit... mean. Or, indifferent...? Either way, a week had come and gone already since that event and, right now, it was 9 a.m, she was still in her PJ's, in what was basically a stranger's bed, and a small mirror was resting in her lap.

The last seven days had been... difficult, which was just a nice way to say that they had been spent in a near-catatonic state really, a state first caused by the realisation that she couldn't remember who she was, then... by the things she did remember.

Although, looking down at her reflection in the mirror now, she could somewhat confidently affirm that she had finally (sort of) come to terms with her situation.

(Mind, she wasn't quite sure what the 'situation' was all about, but she had a pretty good grasp on a few basics at least.)

It all came down to four facts that she'd picked up through... various means:

First: the giant man living with her was her father – although she didn't know his name yet. She hadn't seen much of him during that week, mostly because she'd been too shocked to pay much attention when he was bringing meals, but she knew he was a tall, short-haired man with piercing gray eyes.

Second: her own name was Annabelle – or Ann – and she was an eight-year-old kid(eight years... how did one even go about shaving off so many years of themselves?) with shoulder-length brunet curls for hair, and big amber eyes. She was kind of a spoiled brat – or maybe a special kid, she wasn't quite fixed on that... Either way, her father was used to her tantrums/breakdowns and had seemed almost resigned to let her not attend school instead of insisting she go after that first day.

And third, the last but not the least – arguably the most important fact about herself:

She had been reborn.

Now, what made her think so?

Well... perhaps it was because she could have sworn she was 22 instead of 8, but, granted, that could have been mere delusions. Then maybe it was the utmost certainty she could feel that, without a shadow of a doubt, she had died before ending up here – even if she wasn't clear on the 'how's. Again, perhaps it was thanks to the knowledge she did possess, which definitely wasn't that of a child – because no matter what kind of genius Ann may or may not have been, she sure as hell shouldn't be aware of how to hogtie someone (*cough*), especially when puberty hadn't even hit yet-

In the end, this strange combination of knowledge that couldn't have possibly come just from books, and memories of an end yet to come... it all came down to those and what (little) she knew about reincarnation, for her to come to that far-fetched conclusion.

And so, at the same time, she was both a 22-year-old amnesiac with extensive knowledge of various topics and who had died in unknown circumstances, and an eight-year-old frail-looking brunette amnesiac, prone to fits of unknown origins.

It made things... confusing for her poor brain; the complete lack of memories also made separating both lives in her mind a hurdle.

Well, that wasn't quite right: she wasn't completely devoid of memories on Ann's side of things.

After some digging, she had ended up finding some of the little girl's memories, except... aside from inane things, such as what she usually ate for breakfast and where the bathroom was in the house, there was nothing else there that would help her identify as 'Ann'. No personality traits, no childhood crushes or sorrows, no idea as to whether she was good at academics or not, if she had any hobbies or liked any sports in particular... By all accounts, Ann had been an empty shell that she, an unknown entity full of strange knowledge, had suddenly ended up inhabiting.

It was as if she'd simply jumped between bodies, transferring her previous older self – whose age she knew, but whose name and entire life experiences she couldn't recall for the life of her (pun wholly intended) – into a younger body.

Could she be blamed for not knowing on which foot to dance?

At least, intellectually, she knew acting her 'true' age would get her in trouble – and/or a psychiatric ward –, but adjusting was still difficult... especially since she could remember the lives of book characters better than either of hers.

It was... frustrating.

Additionally, she doubted people usually remembered their reincarnation, so among all the questions she had, one in particular occupied her mind on a daily basis: what had happened when she'd died to cause this anomaly? And why had it happened when it had?

Her running theory was that the 'resetting process', so to say, had properly started, had succeeded in erasing her identity... but had ultimately failed in completely erasing her extensive previous knowledge, making it so that, eight years after reincarnating, her twenty-two years worth of knowledge had inexplicably re-emerged, and overwritten the kid's eight meagre years worth of memories...

Her grip on the mirror tightened, and her gaze met bright amber eyes.

She felt uncomfortable thinking of it this way, but... it did make her wonder at how similar to a murder this all sounded. The old Ann was gone, basically dead, and no one would know to mourn her...

Technically though, if she had indeed reincarnated, it would mean that she'd basically erased her own future self by emerging the way she had – which was much less guilt-inducing than thinking she had stolen a random body.

In any case, she was left at a loss, in-between two states of life:

A knowledgeable young adult, in the body of a troublesome eight-year-old.

Half-dead, half-... child.

... which sounded like one Hell of a freaky zombie.

It was all very headache-inducing.

Sitting straighter on the edge of Ann's bed, she carefully set the mirror on the bedside table, then scanned the bedroom for spare clothes to change into. For the first time since the day she'd 'woken up', she took note of the tasteful furniture and the pastel tones all around her, deeming it nice enough... if you liked sleeping in an IK*A store, that is. She located a closet, got up to rummage through it, and glanced at the light wooden door that she would soon have to open in order to leave her cocoon of safety.

Out there... Out there, there was a world she was supposed to have left forever. A world that had so many possibilities to offer, so much to learn and experience all over again, or for the first time... A world she intellectually already knew, but couldn't remember.

Done with putting on socks, she straightened from her position, then stared pensively into space.

She couldn't tell how her previous self had died, but... objectively speaking, she had been too young to die of natural causes.

She took a few moments to gather her thoughts, before nodding firmly to herself.

And so, it was with the determination to take extra care of her health and avoid any and all trucks from now on, that 'Ann' set to leave the bedroom in her pastel clothes (seriously, was this house sponsored?) and start her new life in earnest.

Evidently, Ann's father wasn't exactly keen on enrolling her anymore.

Anywhere.

The man had apparently already been looking for a private tutor as an alternative, from the very moment she'd had her initial breakdown – which was a bit rushed in her opinion, but then again what did she know? Maybe it was the 49th time this sort of thing happened, and he simply had enough of trying to enrol her in a public school.

So when she strolled out of the room she'd stayed holed up in for a week – completely silent and barely eating –, he didn't immediately react.

But when she told him she was ready to go to school now, he silently stared at her for about a minute, before answering with a deadpan and a resounding 'no'.

Really, she was getting rather curious as to how Ann used to behave and why those fits of hers were apparently so habitual, mainly because it was already making her new life difficult, but also because any piece of information about the little girl would be welcome at this point – but she couldn't just directly ask for answers, and take the risk that Ann's father- her father now, would realise that something was utterly wrong with his daughter.

(God, she was such a usurper.)

In any case, despite his clear refusal, the school issue was actually resolved much quicker than she'd thought; as she was insisting so much – a rarity from Ann it appeared – a compromise came into the form of a special school, that she would have to attend for at least three days 'without making a fuss', before Ann's father would decide whether she could stay.

A special school whose bottom line was basically to teach children how to control their emotions.

The brunette felt sort of offended on Ann's behalf.

Of course, she made sure to express her displeasure with an impressive scowl for an eight-year-old, even as she agreed to the older man's terms, followed him to his car in order to immediately go to the school (hasty much?) and obediently buckled up. But then again, if this was what it took to advance her education in this new life of hers, she didn't have much of a choice; she wanted a well-rounded education, and a chance to socialize – which wouldn't be possible with a private tutor.

Of course, she had no memories of her previous school years – neither as her older self nor Ann – but she had plenty of references from books such as Harry Potter or various mangas to base her expectations on, and there was no way she was going to miss out on that experience.

Alas, if she hadn't been so focused on her thoughts, maybe she would have recognised the name 'Starford Private School' from her previous self's knowledge; but would it have made any difference?...

...to be continued...

OMAKE

22 year-old self: I wonder how accurate the books are about school... Either way, it's sure to be entertaining!

8 year-old Ann: Some teachers used to be mean to me... but there are also some who were very nice. Who do you think you'll end up with?

22: Hm, I don't know... I kinda want to meet a mean teacher; wouldn't it be fun to see a real Severus Snape in the flesh?

Ann: ... You're a bit weird.

22: I take offense to that.

A/N: Yep. A OC-insert story. Get ready for the cringe!

And don't hesitate to leave a review on your way out~ ;D